"You won't lose me," I soothed, freeing a hand to stroke his hair. "But if we don't go after your father, who will? Nathan? Is he going to sneak into the mansion? Is he going to rescue Bella and Max?"

There was no way he'd be capable of it. Resisting his sire's will alone was a dicey proposition. But to expect him to pull it off and free Max and Bella was ridiculous wishful thinking.

"I'm not going to leave Nathan behind." I repeated "You won't lose me." Then I realized I'd never even imagined I might lose him, or Nathan.

Suddenly, I understood too well where Cyrus was coming from.

We were mostly silent as we prepared for the night. Nathan dug out his old Movement uniform for himself and a matching set for Cyrus. I thought of making a joke about the Doublemint twins, but figured it would go over like a lead balloon.

I dressed for comfort—I was going to be invisible anyway, I argued when they objected to my decidedly non-blacked-out attire—and armed myself simply. A few stakes and a couple vials of holy water were the weapons I hoped I wouldn't need. If all went according to plan, I would get into the mansion, poke around until I found what I was after, and slip back out without a fight.

Of course, when had things ever gone according to plan? The gods of physical humor seemed inclined to watch me try to fight as often as possible.

Nathan, on the other hand, had a pile of weapons beside him as he sat in the armchair inspecting his crossbow.

"Is that all you're taking?" I asked sarcastically, dropping onto the couch.

He smiled wryly. "Where's Cyrus?"

"Showering and changing into his spiffy new Movement attire."

Nathan raised an eyebrow.

"He says if he's going to die again, he's going to die clean." I surreptitiously sniffed my armpit. I didn't want to be the one who died with B.O.

"No one is going to die," Nathan assured me in the gruff, detached way he always spoke when his hands and eyes were otherwise occupied. "This is probably the easiest thing we've ever done, on account of your unexpected talent tor the occult."

"I told you, that was Dahlia's blood doing it. Let's hope she doesn't pick up on the trick while I'm in there." I looked around the apartment. All the furniture was visible. "Where's the stone?"

"It's in the shop, on the table when you first come through the door, so don't walk into it." He set the crossbow aside with a heavy exhalation. "I want you to be extremely careful tonight."

How like him, to turn an inconsequential moment into a too-serious-for-comfort pep talk. I put on my brave face for him. "You know I will be. When have I ever marched into danger recklessly before?"

Another sardonically arched brow.